Fallen From Grace
by Devon Goes to Heaven
Summary: An alternate universe inspired by the Spider-Gwen comic-verse. Matt has made a choice. He kills the man responsible for his father's death, and subsequently, Matt follows a darker path.
1. Chapter 1

_**Disclaimer:**_ _I don't own Daredevil, Spider-Gwen, or any Marvel properties used in this story. I am not profiting from this fanfiction in any way._

1\. I've blended elements from the Spider-Gwen comics with the Marvel Cinematic Universe. In Spider-Gwen, Matt Murdock is a a darker, villain character. I've seen one-shots tackling the idea, but I've never seen the idea explored farther than that.

2\. I'm aware that in this fandom that each person tends to have a strong relationship preference. I've chosen Matt and Karen. I feel as if Claire Temple is too morally grounded to start a romance with Earth-65 Matt Murdock, and Elektra Natchios acts too independently to involve herself in Wilson Fisk's criminal organization.

3\. Jessica Jones and Kilgrave's arc will be blended with the Daredevil and Spider-Gwen cast. I'm actually interested to write this. Kilgrave is a walking trigger warning, and the worst of his personality will be explored.

4\. Spider-Gwen (Earth 65) is not likely to ever be adapted in the MCU, but being a long time fan of Gwen Stacy, I've always been quite fond of this alternate universe in the comics. I'm drawing a lot of inspiration from Emma Stone's interpretation of the character as well as the Spider-Gwen comics. I personally hated Kirsten Dunst as Mary-Jane, and it took reading the comics to actually warm up to the character again. For this reason, I will be using Zendaya Coleman as the face character for Mary-Jane Watson.

5\. Finally, feedback is important to me. Let me know if there are elements you'd like to see explored in this story in the comments section **.**

 **Fallen From Grace**

 _Hell's Kitchen, 2015_

A melodic sound resonates, breaking the slumber of one Karen Page. Her head is searing in pain, and her body feels as if she's been thrown against a slab of hard concrete. Karen sits up in her bed, right hand reaching for her iPhone. She grasps the phone in her hand, dismissing the buzzing alarm with a tap of her thumb. Karen tosses her soft blue comforter to the side. She's searching her memory, trying to remember the events of the previous night. Karen remembers being at a bar with a man, _Daniel Fisher_ \- her coworker. She had been sipping on her first glass of Merlot. There was a second drink she had ordered. Karen's forehead creases as she tries to remember the second cocktail. What was it that she had drank? Karen cannot remember.

Karen tosses her legs over the side of her bed. _Dear God_ , did Daniel actually stay over? _Had they slept together?_ Karen feels the soft fabric of her polka dot blouse, and she glances down at her legs. Her black skirt is still around her waist, and her bright yellow pumps are still on her feet. Maybe Daniel had found his way home. Karen hopes. _Oh god_ , does she hope. She's fully aware of how she can be once she crosses that fine line of tipsy to sloppy.

Karen breathes as she rises from the bed. She tip-toes out of her bedroom toward her living room. Daniel is passed out on her floor - _in a pool of blood_. Her legs stiffen underneath as her heart skips in her chest. Her legs buckle as her knees hit her carpet. _So much blood_. Karen's throat becomes tight as her eyes find a knife covered in blood. She reaches forward, fingers wrapping around the black handle. She lifts the knife to her eyes, taking in the blood stained blade. Someone murdered Daniel Fisher in her apartment. _But why?_

Karen's heart is racing as she remembers the email sent to her. The contents at the time had been so confusing to her that she'd alerted her supervisor. Then, there was all of the corruption Daniel had spoke of in Union Allied Construction. Her chest constricts as all of details connect together. Karen almost vomits.

Karen's eyes focus on the blood dripping from the knife's blade. She barely registers the pounding on her apartment door as man kicks it from his hinges. _"_ _Drop the knife!"_ The knife slips from Karen's hands as her gaze falls on a police officer. His gun is drawn as he approaches her. Karen forces her arms into the air as everything becomes real. Daniel Fisher is dead on her living room floor, and she's about to be charged with her murder.

"I didn't do this..." her voice is so thin, _so desperate_.

"Get on the ground!" the office commands. "Now!"

"I didn't do this!" Karen shouts as she lowers herself onto the blood stained carpet. " _Oh god…_ "

The officer pulls her left arm behind her back, cuffing it as he take her right arm in his hand. He cuffs her right wrist, linking them both her wrists together in handcuffs. Her life seems to be slipping from her fingers as panic runs through her.

" _No_ , I didn't do this!" Karen insists once more. " _Oh god_ , I didn't do this. _I didn't do this!"_

"You have the right to remain silent," the officer's voice is hardened and cold. "Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be provided for you…"

Her life is _over_. Tears sting her eyelids. Karen Page barely has the money to keep a roof over her head. How in God's good name could she ever afford an attorney with the skill to dismiss her case. Her life feels as it's disappearing almost as if she were already dead.

* * *

Foggy glances at his watch, frowning at the number on the dial. _7:50_. He's running late again. If he's a minute too late, Reyes will have his head. Foggy breaks into a run as he climbs the subway steps. His hand grips his brief case as he reaches the last step. His eyes scan through the crowd of men and women gathered on the sidewalk. A red hand is flashing on the other side of the crosswalk. Foggy sprints through the crowd, bumping into several pedestrians as he makes his way through the streets. He glances at his watch again. _7:54_.

Foggy's legs cramp as he moves through the sidewalk. He can see a the District Attorney's Office just ahead, the dull grey building casting a looming shadow against the sidewalk. Foggy quickens his pace as his lungs burn. The last time he did this much cardio was his half-assed attempt at some pilates video with a girl from college. Foggy mentally represses the awful memory of tripping over himself and knocking his date's TV off its stand. His legs slow as he reaches the front door. He glances at his watch one last time. _7:58_ \- just in time to spare himself from another ass chewing from Reyes.

Foggy pulls the front door open with his freehand and grins as he steps inside. He passes the secretary sitting at the front desk and moves through a row of cubicles till he reaches his desk. He sets his briefcase down on the desk and draws in a deep breath. _Coffee._ Foggy exits his cubicle and moves back through the row of cubicles till he reaches a small table. A box of donuts and coffee maker sits next to a pile of paper plates and a tower of Styrofoam cups. Foggy lifts the lid of the box of donuts. There's one chocolate sprinkled donut left. Foggy grins to himself as he places the donut onto a paper plate. He grabs a Styrofoam cup from the top of the tower, and pours himself a fresh cup of coffee. His eyes are searching in vain for creamer when he hears a woman clear her throat.

 _Reyes_. Foggy reluctantly turns to face his supervisor, holding the cup of black coffee in his hand. He forces a fake smile and manages to utter, "Good morning, Ms. Reyes."

"Good morning, Nelson," her chin is raised a tad too high as her eyes narrow. "It's nice to see you made it to work on time today. Let's make that a habit, shall we?"

Reyes crosses her arms as she looks up to him like a predator honing in on its prey. Foggy swallows the lump in his throat and asks, "Is there anything I can do for you?"

"Actually, there is," Reyes' painted pink lips curve into a smile. "I have a case for you. It's practically open and shut. The woman was found with the murder weapon in hand in her apartment."

" _Hold up,_ " Foggy says. "You want _me_ to take on a murder case."

"Like I said, it's open and shut," Reyes says. "Not even you can mess this one up, Nelson."

The insult stings, but Foggy recovers with ease. "I'd be glad to take the case. Care to share the details?"

"Follow me," Reyes instructs. "Detective Stacy will brief you on the details."

* * *

Ice clinks as Matt Murdock brings a cocktail glass to his lips, scotch burning the back of his throat as he sips. He sets the glass on the table, testing it against the surface before releasing his fingers. The sound of pouring liquid and the thick scent of scotch are close. Matt takes the glass back in hand and sips the burning liquid once more. Fisk clears his throat in a gesture to call for his and Wesley's attention.

"There is a reason I asked you both here tonight," Fisk voice is quiet and rigid as it always is.

 _Isn't there always?_ Matt has always considered Wilson Fisk a client rather than a friend. Matt takes another sip of his scotch, searching for the perfect words. On one hand, he'd like to be blunt, but on the other hand, Matt does not wish to rattle Fisk's temper. He rotates the glass in his hand and finally speaks, "You disposed of Daniel Fisher and the meddling secretary, haven't you? What is the purpose of this meeting, exactly?"

"There have been some unforeseen complications," Fisk says.

"Complications?" Wesley scoffs. "We pinned the murder on the Page girl. She'll take fall."

"Your _plan_ might have worked, Wesley," Fisk begins. "But, _George Stacy_ is overseeing the case."

" _And?"_ Wesley's whiny retort almost resembles the sound of nails on a chalk board.

"You misunderstand what kind of man George Stacy is, Mr. Wesley," Matt answers. "He's thorough with details. Even the smallest infraction will have New York's finest sniffing at our doors like hounds on a hunt."

"My men were _careful_ ," Wesley insists.

"Oh?" Matt says. "If you and your men were so careful, how did the embezzlement documents find their way into Page's email?"

Matt hears Wesley scoff and mutter insults under his breath. The two have never seen eye to eye, and Matt has always seen Wesley as a man lacking in common sense. To pin the murder on a simple girl was a simpleton's way out of a complex situation. Matt cannot say he's surprised, but the sloppy error is like to bite back if Stacy's forensics team unearth the documents. Matt laces his fingers together and leans on Fisk's dinner table.

"Let me propose an alternative solution," Matt begins. "I will go to Karen Page as her defense attorney and offer my services pro-bono. If Page still holds copies of the misplaced email, I will ask her to turn them over to me. We will pin the murder on McClintock and have a hired hit-man stage his suicide while he awaits trial."

Fisk's chair creaks as he shifts his weight. The room is a tad too quiet for Matt's liking as he waits to hear Fisk's opinion on his proposal. Wesley breaks the silence with a trite snort before speaking. "I don't see why we should bother fronting our expenses for a hit-man when Page is already charged with the murder."

"Because, George Stacy is the detective working Page's case," Fisk's voice is sharp as he verbally cuts into Wesley. "If he uncovers the misplaced email, he will stop at nothing to expose the men behind it. If you had bothered to _pay attention_ , you would understand this."

There is a beat of silence before Wesley offers quiet, half-hearted apology. "My apologies, Fisk."

Fisk ignores Wesley's apologies as his fingers drum against the table. He heaves a sigh before speaking, "Fix this, Murdock. Throw McClintock under the bus for all I care. Just keep George Stacy off my doorstep."

Matt straightens his tie as he rises from his chair. "It will be my pleasure, Mr. Fisk."

* * *

One moment, she was but a woman trying to make it in New York, and the next moment, she's being escorted to her newly appointed attorney in handcuffs by two uniformed police officers. Karen hasn't a clue how the justice system works, but she's certain she never appointed an attorney to represent her. She'd always imagined she'd receive a court appointed attorney that would present her with an unsavory plea bargain. Perhaps this is how one meets a court appointed attorney. Karen isn't sure. All she wants is to wake up from whatever nightmare she's managed to crawl into.

The officer opens a door to the small, dreary room. They sit her down on a seat, removing her handcuffs. The guard reaches for a pair of cuffs attached to the table. Karen's chest feels tight. They're treating her as if she is some kind of monster. It's humiliating and dehumanizing. The door opens just as the officer is fascinating her last cuff to her wrist. Karen's eyes look to a man dressed in a expensive suit. His eyes are covered with red shades and in his hand is a white blind cane. The man feels his way to his chair, pulling it out from the table. He sits directly in front of her. He leans his cane against the table as he shifts in his seat.

Forgetting herself, Karen attempts to reach her hand out to introduce herself. Her cuff digs into her wrist as an officer gives her a warning look. She lowers her hands back to the table, the handcuff chains rattling against the hard, steel surface.

"Considering that my client's bail has been paid, I'm going to ask that you remove her restraints," his voice is assertive, commanding even.

"Sir, we were not informed that her bail has been posted-"

"I posted her bail upon my arrival," he snaps. " _Remove her restraints_. I don't wish to repeat myself again."

"Of course, Mr. Murdock," the officer says.

The officer goes to her, unlocking her restraints with a small key. Karen draws her wrist to her, gently massaging it with her free hand. The officer stands still watching her like a sentinel guarding a castle. Karen's throat is tight as she leans back in her chair. She keeps her eyes forward as he tries in vain to forget the watchful eyes of the two police officers.

"I wish to discuss my client's case alone," her attorney's pauses, waiting for a response from the officers. The officer's remain still as boulders, and when her attorney finally speaks, his tone is clipped. " _Alone_ meaning _now_."

One officer's lips twist as he glares down at the attorney. He mutters _"_ _asshole"_ under his breath before he exits the room with his colleague. The officer slams the door in one swift motion, leaving Karen with alone with her attorney. Karen releases a deep breath into the air. She's fighting the tears that sting her eyes. Several question sift through her mind, but she can't seem to find a way to vocalize them. Karen collapses forward, elbows falling on the hard steel table as she cries into her hands.

"I didn't kill him I swear…" she says in between sobs as hot tears pour from her eyes.

"I believe you."

Karen raises her eyes to him. Her lip part as her eyes meet his red lenses. She wonders what his eyes might look like. Are they a crystal blue or a soft brown? Karen shakes that thought. Her heavy emotions have made her forget herself and her manners. This man has agreed to represent her _and has_ posted her bail. The least she can do is thank him.

"Thank you," her voice is so soft, wistful even. "I...had expected to be appointed a public attorney. I'm not exactly sure why you are taking my case, but thank you."

"It is my pleasure, Miss Page," he says.

"Karen...you can call me Karen."

"It is a pleasure to meet you, Karen," he says. "My name is Matthew Murdock from The Murdock Law Group. I will be representing you. When you have time to collect yourself, I'd like you to walk me through the events that transpired between you and Mr. Fisher. As your attorney, I can only represent you to my best abilities if you are completely truthful with me."

Karen's mind flashes to the flash drive concealed under her floorboard. Her legs are stiff as she debates whether to reveal the contents of the drive to her attorney. She rubs her lip together as her eyes meet his red lenses once more. She parts her lips, words on the tip of her tongue. Those words catch in her throat as fear overcomes her. Her hands are shaking as she places her palms flat on the steel table. Karen swallows roughly, deciding to divulge the information.

"There's a flash drive in my apartment. It's the reason for all of _this_. _I'm being framed_ , Mr. Murdock." Karen pauses, lowering her voice an octave. "I _need_ that drive. If someone has the power to frame me, they'll have the police destroy it if they find it. _Please_ , believe me."

"I believe you, Karen," he says. "There is a method of retrieving that drive. I will ask my private investigator to retrieve it from your apartment."

"You can't _trust_ him," Karen says. "You can't trust _anyone_."

" _Her_ actually," he corrects. "Miss Jones is diligent and her loyalties aren't tied to crime syndicates or to the authorities. I would never deliberately put a client in danger to win a case. You are safe with me, Karen."

His voice is so soothing to her. Karen looks to his red lenses, imagining soft eyes behind them. "Thank you, Mr. Murdock."

"You may call me Matt if you wish," he says with a smile.

Karen returns his smile, laughing slightly to herself. "Your firm is high profile. If people at work needed representation, they were always referred to you or Hogarth. I don't have money. It's not that I'm ungrateful or anything. It's just... _why?_ "

"I saw an injustice," his words are smooth like silk. "Injustice is what attracted me to this profession. I only wish to make this right, Karen."

Karen lowers her eyes to her hands. She _so eager_ to put all of her faith in this man, but part of her is hesitant. Her eyes raise as she studies his features. She makes a choice - _the only choice she has_. Karen Page will trust Matthew Murdock with the location of the flash drive, Daniel's confession, and every dirty secret she has buried in the confines of her mind.


	2. Chapter 2

_1\. For all the Karedevil shippers here, there's a scene in her I think all of you will like. I'm used to writing fluff scenes, but this is pretty racy. I'm actually surprised with how it came out, because it is not my typical writing style. It's actually probably my favorite thing I wrote this chapter. Matt is pretty dark in the Spider-Gwen comics. So, I did not hold back in this chapter. Also, I feel as if Karen fell for Matt the day she met him in the Netflix Series. So, I kept that alive in this story too._

 _2\. Gwen and Jessica appear for the first time in this chapter. I plan to slowly introduce more MCU characters as the plot moves._

 _3\. Kilgrave will make an appearance farther down the line, and he will be as awful as ever. I think actually he will do a lot worse here, and it will get really dark. There's some terrible things he does to a lot of the characters, and one specific case that is going to be intense._

 **Fallen From Grace**

"With great power comes great responsibility…"

That's what her father had always said. Gwen Stacy leans back in her seat. A week ago she was just a normal girl. She went to school like a normal girl. She hung out with MJ. She had this silly crush on the boy in her science class. Peter Parker - ah, the topic of her and MJs gossip sessions. They would both ogle him from afar. Of course, neither of them would ever act on their mutual crushes on the boy.

It really wouldn't be fair to MJ. That was what Gwen would say to herself. And, now, with everything that's going on with her, it wouldn't be fair to Peter either. She releases a deep breath. Maybe she could just offer herself up to the Avengers. She could be a hero like Tony Stark or Steve Rodgers.

The train stops. Gwen grabs her backpack and files out of the train car behind several men and women. She hears a woman scream "my purse!" For a fraction of a second, Gwen debates whether to pursue the man. She decides. Gwen Stacy breaks into a run in pursuit of the offending man.

* * *

"I can't go back to my apartment. It's a crime scene."

"You can stay with me, Miss Page."

When Matt had offered her a place to stay, Karen was unsure to take up his offer. The taxi to his place was long, and almost daunting. She keeps looking over her shoulder in an attempt to see if they are being followed. The guilt settles in her. What if something were to happen to Matt as a result of her being near him? Karen's shoulders tighten as she crosses her arms together. Her eyes are timid as she looks to Matt. He can't see her. Thank god. He can't see all of the fear she's trying so hard to hide. He can't see the fragile emotional mess of a woman she's become. He can't see the regret that her actions led to the death of an innocent man.

"I should get a hotel," she says.

"That isn't necessary," Matt says. "I have a spare room in my apartment."

"I know - it's just…"

"No one is going to harm us," Matt says. "I promise. The people that are after you don't have as much power as you might think."

"You don't know them," Karen argues. Her voice lowers as she whispers, "You don't know what they can do."

Matt is quiet for a moment. She wishes she could see past the red lenses shielding his eyes. Is he really this fearless? Karen lets out a staggered breath. She wants to argue. She wants to tell Matt what kind of people he may be dealing with. She wishes she could reason with him. She looks to him once more. Perhaps his glasses are concealing his fear, but he seems very relaxed - almost too relaxed. Good god. If she could just tell him everything, perhaps he'd just drop her off at a hotel. No one else needs to die for me, she thinks to herself. Her body tenses as she clutches the top of her knees. She's petrified with fear.

The taxi stops before a large apartment tower. They're in Midtown Manhattan. Karen gasps as she looks at the front doors to the apartment complex. This place must cost a fortune. She looks to Matt. Of course he would live in such a place. Matt Murdock is about as high profile of an attorney a person can hire. He's gotten her superiors out of several cases from DUIs to straight up fraud.

"There is overnight security," Matt says. "You will be safe with me."

Matt is the first to exit the cab. Karen looks to the open door tentatively. There's part of her that wants to ask the driver for a ride to a dumpy hotel outside the city. She sees herself lying on an old musty bed in a pool of her own blood. It would be easier that way. It would be over. No one else would be hurt. Yet, the desire to live is still too strong. She looks over to Matt who is holding out his hand. Karen hesitates just awhile longer before taking his hand in hers.

Karen steps outside of the cab. Perhaps at some point she meant to release his hand, but she's still clinging to it as if it is her last lifeline. She holds onto to his hand for a fraction of a second longer before letting go. She follows Matt through a pair of sliding glass doors. They step inside a glass alcove. Matt reaches into his pocket and retrieves a card. His hands feel for a scanner before he places the card in front of it. The second pair of doors swish open. Karen follows Matt into a large lobby.

"Good evening, Mr. Murdock," a man at the front desks greets.

"Good evening," Matt replies.

He walks passed the desk and to an elevator. Karen rushes past him and presses the button to the elevator. Matt says a small "thank you" before she returns to his side. As they wait for the elevator to descend, Karen looks to him. Somehow she just wants to know him. She wants to see what hides behind the red lenses that conceal his face. She has the urge to take his hand in hers again, to lean into him, and to just wrap her arms around him. God, she's so stupid. He's her lawyer for Christ's sake. The last person she should be making passes at is her criminal attorney.

The elevator dings before the silver doors slide open. Matt steps in first and Karen follows. She goes to the keypad and asks, "Which floor?"

"Fifteen," Matt says.

Karen presses the button and returns to Matt's side. She feels that pull again, and it makes her wish that she had resigned herself to a dumpy hotel. She shouldn't want him. It's completely unprofessional, and she's so lost that she can't even think straight. There are a million reasons she shouldn't dare to even think about Matt in such a way. But, when she looks to him, she feels safer than she's ever felt before.

The doors open to a hallway. Karen steps inside to see a blue and bronze colored carpet and white painted walls. It's so completely different than the dusty stairwell she walks through every night. Karen follows Matt to the end of the hallway. He retrieves his keys from his pocket and unlocks his door. Karen follows him inside the small building. She can vaguely see the city lights glittering outside a large window pane. Karen closes the door behind her as her eyes trying to adjust to the dark apartment.

"I forgot," Matt flips on the light switch. "I don't often have guests over."

The room illuminates and Karen is stunned by his apartment. The tiled floor, the marble countertops - everything looks so expensive. Karen moves to a black couch and sits. Even the glass coffee table in front of her looks so expensive. Matt sits next to her as he sets two wine glasses on the table. He pours her glass before filling his. The smell of the strong red wine relaxes her as she stares down at the glass.

"I thought you might need to take the edge off," Matt smiles to her.

He takes his red glasses off to reveal his dark brown eyes. He feels the table before setting down the pair of glasses. Karen gasps as she looks to him. He's more handsome than she pictured him to be. She looks away from him and down at her glass of wine. She takes it in her hand and sips. It's stronger than she initially expected. She takes another long sip before setting the glass down on the glass table.

"Thank you…" Karen pauses and looks to him. "For everything."

"It's my pleasure," he says. "I only saw an innocent woman in need of help."

Karen smiles slightly to him. When she'd heard the name Murdock at work, she assumed he was a greasy criminal lawyer. Yet, there's something more to him. Something different. She takes her glass of wine and sips. She has so many questions. He's such a mystery to her. Maybe that's why she's so attracted to him. Karen leans close to him. It's been so long since she's found comfort in a man, but maybe she could find comfort in him.

Just once...

Matt shifts on the couch to face her. Karen places her hand on his cheek. He doesn't pull away from her. Karen breathes. There is a piece of her that's holding back. It's the part of her that's telling her that this is so wrong. But, when he presses his lips to hers, she's too far gone to care. Her hands run through his hair. She's shrugging his jacket off of his shoulders, and he's pulling her so close to him.

It feels so wrong. It's unethical and probably not at all legal. But, she can't stop herself. She doesn't care, because she's doesn't want to think anymore. She doesn't want to feel the pain or the fear. Karen pulls away from him and shifts herself so that she's straddling his lap. She's pulling at his tie as his hand is cupping her breast. God. She needs him so badly.

Karen tosses his tie to the side. Her hands are unbuttoning his white shirt. Matt lifts her up into his arms. She wraps her legs around him as he carries her into his bedroom. He sets her down on the bed and her fingers latch around his half-buttoned shirt to pull him closer.

She gasps as he nips at her neck. His hands are pulling at her skirt. He tosses it to the floor as he climbs on top of her. She looks up into his brown eyes. All of this is so wrong. Maybe that's why she wants him so badly.

"Matt…" she breathes.

His lips press against hers as his body presses against her. She wraps her legs around his waist and digs her fingers into his back. Her heart is pounding in her chest, and she can't remember a time she wanted someone this much. Matt breaks their kiss and shrugs out of his dress shirt. He tosses it aside and leans over to her ear.

"This is not how I expected my night to end…" his voice is a dark whisper.

She shivers underneath him. She pulls her blouse over her head and looks up to him. His eyes are distant and unfocused, but still so handsome. She unhooks her bra and tosses it aside with her blouse. She takes his hand and places it on her breast. His lips curve into a smile as he leans to kiss her neck.

"Matt…" she whispers as her hands tangle in his hair.

He laughs this laugh. There's a hint of playfulness but also darkness. She shivers again. Karen's not sure what she's just ignited. It doesn't matter. She'll burn in this fire she started if for one night she can forget everything.

* * *

The complex is a cramped, unkept building. Jessica eyes the flickering light just above the stairwell. What a dump. Her right hand grips the railing as she keeps her eyes forward. She reaches the top of the stairwell and glances down the dreary hallway. The paint is flaking off and there's this so sour smell that just lingers.

Jessica walks through the hallway, both hands in the pockets of her leather jacket. Her cellphone buzzes, and Jessica retrieves the phone from her pocket. "Did you find it?" Jessica rolls her eyes at the text. Jessica ignores it and stuffs the phone back in her pocket. She won't say she outright hates Matt Murdock. He's far easier to work for than Hogarth ever was, but he isn't exactly pleasant to be around at times.

Still, it's better than Jeri Hogarth demanding her to dig through her wife's personal business. With Kilgrave hovering in the back of her mind, Jessica can't see herself completely disregarded a woman's privacy for the sake of Hogarth one-upping her ex-wife in a divorce. Matt has never asked her to spy on a girlfriend, and that is something she very much appreciates.

Jessica feels the brass knob to Karen Page's apartment. It's still locked. Jessica pushes against the door, almost forcing it off its hinges. Matt had mentioned that it hidden somewhere in the bathroom. Jessica eyes scan the living room floor. Dried blood is in the center. Jessica moves around the blood stain and walks through the hallway. When she reaches the bathroom, her eyes look up towards a loose ceiling tile. Jessica climbs onto the sink counter and pops open the ceiling tile. Her hands feel around till they land on a rectangular object. She takes it in hand and hops off the counter. She stuffs the flash drive in her leather jacket.

Jessica turns, seeing a large man behind her. The man lunges at her, slamming her against the wall. Jessica raises an eyebrow. She grabs him by his shirt and shoves him against the wall, Kilgrave flashing in his mind. She almost crushes his throat, but stops before she goes to far.

"Listen - I don't know why you are stalking this woman," she says. "But, if you ever so much as look her way again, I will personally find you and break each bone in your body one by one."

She releases the man, watching him sprint out the door. Jessica retrieves her phone from her pocket, sending Matt a text. "Found it."

* * *

"I don't think she did it," Nelson takes his eyes away from the video and looks to George Stacy. "I'm not saying she wasn't involved, but I don't think she's the one that killed him."

Reyes snorts at Nelson. Her eyes shift to George as she slithers across the table like a snake in the grass. George hates the look she gives him. It's as if she is demanding him to agree with her with one cold stare. Reyes places her hands on the steel table, tapping her acrylic nails against it impatiently. She wants an answer, and he's not going to give her one she likes.

"We should investigate the scene again," George says. "I'll have my team tear that apartment apart for the truth."

"She had a knife in her hands!" Reyes snaps as she crosses her arms over her chest. "How much more obvious can this get?"

His cellphone vibrates in his back pocket. George hits accept on the screen and puts the phone to his ear. "Stacy."

"Detective," the man pauses momentarily. "I need you at the station."

"I'm a little busy right now," George replies.

"It's your daughter," the man says.

George stomach twists into knots. "Is...is she alright?"

"She's fine," he says. "Although...I can't say the same for the guy she knocked out."

"Wait…" George pauses. "What?"

"I don't know," he says. "Maybe she thinks she some Avenger now."

"Alright…" George heaves a heavy sigh. "I'll be over as soon as I can."

George returns the phone to his pocket. Reyes' eyes narrow at him as a half grin curls on her lips.

"Is there a problem, Stacy?" her voice is cold as ice.

"I'm needed at the station," he says. "It's important."

She rolls her eyes at him. He feels anger rise in his chest. He can usually deal with her little digs and her snotty attitude. But, not today.

"You know our job would be easier if you weren't so damn difficult!" Stacy snaps.

"What is that supposed to mean?" she asks.

Nelson is looking to him. The attorney shifts nervously on his feet and lowers his eyes to the floor. Reyes' arms are crossed as she looks to him with pure venom. She walks to him - heels clicking against the tile with each step she takes. She's looking at him with her slimy smile upon her lips.

"You heard what I said," George says. "If you'll excuse me, I'm needed at the station."

George turns his back on Reyes without hesitation. He walks towards the door and opens it. He doesn't even dare to look back as he slams the door behind him. Reyes can go fuck herself for all he cares. The only thing on his mind is the safety of his daughter.


	3. Chapter 3

_So, Defenders happened, and I'm writing for this fic again. I apologize for the delayed update. I've got tons of new ideas on where to take this. Thanks for all your comments. I love hearing from all of you._

 _ **Fallen From Grace**_

Matt steps out onto his balcony and slides the glass door closed behind him. He draws in a deep breath as he listens to the sounds of cellphones ringing, conversations that have little meaning, and the sound of traffic rushing through the city. New York City never sleeps and Matt can hear every gritty little detail whether it be from below his balcony or five blocks down.

He shifts his weight onto his left foot as he exhales heavily. _This life_ \- it's not what his father would have wanted for him. Jack Murdock was a good man. _And, he died for it_. Matt can still hear Roscoe Sweeney on the night that he killed him. He remembers the false apologies that Sweeney whimpered. He could have stopped. He could have been the good man his father was and denied Elektra's _gift_. _But,_ his heart had been so consumed with anger that he couldn't stop himself.

When Matt was done, he realized that he _liked it_ too much. He liked the power that came with taking another man's life. Elektra had destroyed him but also resurrected him that night. In that same night, he dropped her like dead weight. _She became nothing_. He walked away from her and never looked back. The _empowerment_ he felt from killing another man had released the control she had over him and awakened his own power. She was once his everything and now she means nothing.

Matt grins to himself as he retrieves his phone from his jacket. He scrolls down his contacts to _Fisk_. Matt hits the call button and waits for Fisk to answer.

"Murdock…" Fisk's raspy tone calls to him through the phone.

"Page is with me," Matt says. "I'll advise her to stay quiet."

"People don't always do what they are told, Murdock," Fisk's voice raises an octave. "The girl knows too much."

"She does," Matt agrees. "But, she no longer has proof. My private investigator has confiscated any evidence she can provide to the authorities."

" _Still_...someone must take responsibility," Fisk says.

"Rance was seen by my private investigator in Karen's apartment. I'll have her ID him once he's in police custody," Matt begins. "And, McClintock must pay for his poor judgement. Have him and Rance take the fall together. Surely you can pay someone to silence them both once they're in police holding."

"I like the way you think, Murdock," Fisk says.

"A compliment Fisk?" Matt grins. "I'm flattered."

"Don't let it get to your head," Fisk's voice lowers.

"Of course not," Matt says.

Fisk ends the call and Matt tucks the phone back into his jacket pocket. He pivots on his right foot and feels for a door handle. His hands curl around the handle as he slides open the glass door. He steps inside and slides the door shut behind him. He can feel the floor shift underneath him as Karen approaches him. His fingers tingle as he remembers the touch of her smooth skin. He's almost forgotten how _nice_ it can be to be with a woman. _Truly_ , he does work _too_ much.

"Good news, Miss Page," Matt says. "It appears your charges will be dropped."

"Wait…" she says in utter disbelief. " _Seriously?_ "

"Yes, _seriously_ ," Matt smiles.

She pauses before saying. " _Wow._ Can I at least pay you?"

"You don't need to pay me, Miss Page," Matt says. "You're currently unemployed. It would be too much to ask you for compensation."

Karen's breath catches before she releases a sigh of relief. "Thank you so much for all of this."

"It is my pleasure," Matt replies.

"I suppose this is goodbye then?" there's a slight quiver in her tone. He can hear her heart race. _She doesn't want to let him go_. It's almost endearing.

Matt pauses. Her heart is still beating like a drum. He could dismiss her like he so easily dismissed Elektra so many years ago. He could forget that she exists. _But…_

"It doesn't have to be," Matt says. "I have an open secretarial position. That is if you are interested."

"I'd...like that," she pauses. "I'd like that a lot."

He extends his hands outward. He expects a brief shake, but all of a sudden, her head is resting against his chest. Her hands are clutching his jacket, and he finds his arms around her waist. Her lips touch his, and he feels a fire ignite underneath him. It really has been too long since he's been with a woman.

* * *

Gwen slides her lunch tray alongside Mary-Jane. She glances over her shoulder to see Peter at the end of the lunch line. Their eyes meet and Peter smiles to her. Gwen's heart flutters as she lowers her eyes to her lunch tray. There are days she wistfully imagines what it must be like to kiss him - _to just be with him_.

"Gwen…" Mary-Jane's voices calls. "Earth to Gwen Stacy. You're holding up the line."

" _Oh!_ " Gwen says. "Sorry. I was just thinking."

"About Peter?" Mary-Jane asks as they continue to move down the lunch line. "Maybe you should ask him out or something."

" _Wait_ ," Gwen says. "You would be okay with that?"

"Sure," Mary-Jane says. "I see the way he looks at you. He's clearly digging you not me."

"I…" Gwen stutters. " _I can't._ "

"Why not?" Mary-Jane asks.

"It's hard to explain," Gwen says.

"You tell me everything," Mary-Jane says. "Come on. _Spill it_."

"It's family stuff…"

 _Not family stuff_ , _but radioactive spider girl stuff._ Gwen feels her own guilt take hold of her. She's never had to hide anything from MJ in her life, and here she is keeping a very difficult secret from her best friend. Gwen wishes she could tell her. Keeping all this bottled up makes her feel like she's drowning. She wants to tell MJ everything, but at the same time, she also wants to bury all her secrets six feet underneath the ground.

Gwen looks to MJ. Her freshly dyed red hair compliments her dark complexion. She swiftly changes the subject as fast as she can. "You dyed your hair?"

"Yeah," MJ says. "I felt like I needed a new look."

The girls take two boxes of fries and two burgers. They set them on their trays and move to the register. The girls pay and walk towards their table in the back corner. They sit side by side and eat in silence for a moment.

"There was this woman in the paper," MJ breaks their silence. "She wrote this article about being under mind control. _It's crazy._ She says this man gave her commands for weeks. He...raped her and kept her as a personal slave. She wrote as a personal story. It's scary to think about. That Loki guy controlled people too. I don't want to believe there's someone out there that can get into your head like that, but with all this weird stuff going on, it sounds possible."

"I believe her," Gwen says. "There are people out there with super powers now. It wouldn't surprise me if someone has the power to control minds."

Gwen thinks to her new found strength and her ability to stick to walls. If it's possible for her to have such powers, it's completely possible for someone to be able to manipulate a person's mind. She wonders if this man can get into her head too. With her powers, it could be devastating. She could really hurt a lot of people.

"I wouldn't worry too much," MJ says. "In a city like New York, it would be hard to come by this mind-controlling, rapist freak."

Gwen takes a sip of her juice and tries to force the thought of this unknown man from her mind. "I hope so."

Gwen's eyes connect with Peter's. Her lips part as her heart skips. She wishes she didn't like him so much. Life would be so much easier if she could just isolate herself from everyone. It would be so much easier - _so much safer_ \- for everyone around her.

* * *

It's two in the afternoon, and she's walking towards the police station already drunk off her ass. Jessica pushes on the door, but is met with immediate resistance. She really shouldn't have made a brief pitstop at the bar before she came here. Jessica mentally chastises herself as she reminds herself to pull rather than push. She tells herself to at least try to look sober as she walks into the station.

Jessica stops at the front counter. "Yeah... _so_...I'm here to ID a guy."

The woman raises an eyebrow at her. "And, you are?"

"Jones," Jessica says. "I was asked here on behalf of a criminal defense attorney...Matthew Murdock."

"I know _Murdock_ quite well, Miss Jones," the woman says with disgust. Her eyes narrow as she side eyes Jessica with disapproval. The woman grabs a phone from her desk and dials a number. "Detective Knight, this drunk girl says she's here to ID a suspect on behalf of Murdock. Should I ask her to leave?"

" _Drunk girl!_ " Jessica feels insulted. "Listen, I'm just here to do what I was asked to by my employer! Can I just talk with Knight myself? She knows who I am."

The woman stares her down before returning to her phone call. "Her name is Jones. I'm pretty sure she's intoxicated... _You actually know her?..._ Alright, I'll send her in."

The woman hangs up the phone. "Detective Knight is waiting in her office."

" _Thanks_ …" Jessica's voice drips with petty sarcasm as she pivots away from the front desk.

Jessica walks through the front office and turns into a hallway. She staggers down the hall until she reaches the door to Misty's office. Jessica knocks on the door and waits. The door opens revealing Foggy Nelson rather than Misty Knight.

"Hey, Jess," Foggy says.

"Mr. Nelson," Jessica says.

Foggy steps aside for her, and Jessica steps inside the office. Misty looks to her from behind her desk and half-smiles. Jessica half-smiles back to her.

"How's Matt doing these days?" Foggy says.

"Still an asshole," Jessica says.

Misty lets out a small laugh. "I've known Murdock long enough to know _that_ will never change."

"Yeah, but he pays well," Jessica says. "So, I put up with him. Is Stacy here?"

"He's picking up his daughter from school," Misty says. "I'll tell him you said hi."

"But, I didn't say _hi_ ," Jessica says.

" _Jessica Jones_ ," Misty shakes her head. "You're stubborn as a damn bull. How do you know the suspect, Rance?"

"Yeah, about that…" Jessica says. "Murdock's client let me scope out her apartment. I sort of ran into him there making himself at home."

"And, you didn't call the police?" Misty raises an eyebrow.

"He took off," Jessica says. "I didn't see the point. Look, can I just ID the asshole so I can get paid?"

Foggy looks to Jessica and sighs. "Follow me, Jessica."

Jessica follows Foggy back outside of the office and into the hallway. She tucks both hands in her jacket pockets. _She really could use another shot_. Jessica's mind drifts as she thinks of the bar across the street from her _apartment slash workplace_. As soon as Murdock pays her, she's going to spend some quality time with just herself and _Jack Daniels_.


End file.
